


The Summer that Wasn't

by prophet_of_troy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Department of Mysteries, F/M, Fairest of the Rare's Sing Me a Rare 2020 - UK Invasion, Falling In Love, Time Travel, Tragic Romance, Unspeakables
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:54:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26673241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prophet_of_troy/pseuds/prophet_of_troy
Summary: She didn't mean to love him, but he came stalking into her world with those eyes and that smile and disarmed any voice in her that might have told her not to. He came, he loved her, and then he left.
Relationships: Lily Evans Potter/Salazar Slytherin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17
Collections: Sing Me a Rare: UK Invasion!





	The Summer that Wasn't

The Summer that Wasn’t

It was raining when she left the house, and cold enough that she pulled the shawl tighter around herself to give her warmth. To give her courage. She stood at the end of her street for several minutes while the rain pelted her harder. She’d decided she had to do this. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life not knowing, and if this was to be the last night…..

_ The rain that night had been warm and playful, a summer’s light evening rain that she loved and might have once taken her shoes off to go play in until someone reminded her how undignified that was. She’d been organizing; sitting on the floor in her new kitchen surrounded by boxes. Her mother had insisted she do this the old fashioned way so that they could make a muggle spectacle of the ordeal, but she secretly didn’t mind the fanfare. In fact, she had been relieved at her mother’s suggestion that they spend the first night with her, camped out in her living room. Lily had played embarrassed- she wasn’t a child anymore, and she’d spent plenty of nights away from home- but they spent the first night with her, and the second, and she was grateful. But the third day they were gone, leaving her to settle into the new place and the nostalgic regret began to sink in. She was still waiting for the excitement to overshadow the anxiety. _

_ She gave up organizing for the day, frustrated and laying down in her new kitchen floor. There was a crack in her ceiling that she hadn’t noticed before and she was trying to decide if it was bad luck while summoning the motivation to get up and maybe put a box of books up before heading off to bed. _

_ “Get up,” she muttered to herself, rolling and pulling herself into a sitting position. She sat back on her palms, comfortable. Too comfortable now to move. Maybe she should just sleep here, cool but not so much she desperately needed a blanket- the red and gold crocheted throw in a heap on her loveseat that she wanted the more she thought about it.  _

_ There was a roaring and a green flash that lit up even the kitchen from the fireplace which she’d only just added to the Floo Network. Marlene, perhaps. Or Alice. Maybe they would grab the throw for her.  _

_ “Mar? Is that you? You know that blanket Mum made? I don’t suppose-” _

_ A Hooded figure came into view in the doorway instead and Lily snapped to her feet fast enough that she stumbled, quickly straightening herself. “Sir! I-I wasn’t expecting you!” _

_ Her kitchen was a mess, the  _ house _ was a mess, and she was fighting hard to look at him rather than fret about the clutter around them.  _

_ “Drop the pleasantries, Evans,” he rasped inside his Hood. “I know you weren’t expecting me. I wasn’t expecting to be here. Lesson point, we are always on duty- and she’s a right bitch. Get your Cloak.” _

_ Cloak. Her eyes widened in panic and her mind went blank. Cloak, where was her Cloak? She remembered writing a note on a box containing it, but she had no idea where that box might be and the more she thought about it the less sure she was that she wrote a note at all.  _

_ She could feel him judging her and all she could do was stand there trying to think of what to say. He said something in a language she didn’t recognize, but she was sure it wasn’t nice, and he pulled a separate, smaller robe from inside his.  _

_ “By failing to prepare, you prepare to fail. Find your Cloak and if you lose it again I will wipe your memory of this job faster than you can say ‘don’t’. We cannot expect the balance of the Wizarding World to rest on forgetful people.” _

_ She took the auxiliary uniform from him gently and muttered somewhat bitterly. “I wasn’t meant to come back to work for another week. I didn’t think-” _

_ “And how is that working for you?” He asked sharply, already on his way back to the fireplace. _

_ Lily set her jaw and glared at his back. She was never sure if he treated her so out of prejudice or if he was just an arse in general, but she had yet to have an encounter with him that didn’t leave her wanting to hit someone. Considering his attitude towards her, maybe the feeling was mutual.  _

_ Deep in the heart of the Department of Mysteries, passed the Veil, the room of haunting and prophetic orbs, the room of That Which We Do Not Speak (her own personal epithet since Croaker wouldn’t tell her what it was) there was a domelike door that made her think of a submarine. It was a small entrance, a thick door, and Lily could feel the crackle of magic in it as she stepped inside. She could feel the magic keeping her face anonymous melt away. Everyone else wore Hoods, but Lily consistently seemed to be the only Cloak allowed in this room- affectionately called Camelot. She was Croaker’s trainee, he handpicked her himself, and she hadn’t at first realized that gave her an advantage until he started letting her into meetings with him no other Cloaks were allowed to attend, the other Speakables giving her looks of bitter envy as they passed her.  _

_ “Croaker! Did you see the readings?” _

_ “I did. We get another Jumper?” _

_ “Appears to be, but there’s something of a situation with this one that we were waiting on you before deciding how we should handle it.” _

_ She didn’t know what readings were yet. Croaker said she had to be an Unspeakable for some lessons, and she supposed the same idea likely applied to whatever a Jumper was. Lily stood, her fidgeting hands clasped under her Cloak as she waited not so patiently. Croaker seemed to be in an already intolerable mood, and he hated for her to try including herself without his word. Her eyes swept over the room, Croaker said she should learn to observe her surroundings, and caught on to a man she’d never seen before.  _

_ He stood tall, though not as tall as some, with his jaw set and raised with confidence. He was older than her, maybe in his forties. His clothes looked like something out of a portrait she might have seen in the corridors of Hogwarts. And she knew him. There was something familiar about his imperial facial hair- the cold blue eyes under somewhat bushy eyebrows, one of them raised as he regarded the Unspeakables in their huddled discussion. He had a pleasant face, but she was quick to look away when he turned to look at her. _

_ “Evans,” Croaker barked and Lily startled into attention.  _

_ “Yes, sir?”  _

_ “Meet Salazar Slytherin.” He gestured to the stranger, who now looked her over with passing curiosity.  _

_ She blinked at him, her mind automatically rejecting the introduction while at the same time knowing Croaker wasn’t a fan of practical jokes. She glanced at the man and then back to her superior. “I don’t understand.” _

_ He moved his hand in a smooth, circular motion telling her he was feeling impatient. “It happens sometimes. We get people coming from the past, more often from the future. Never the same way, we can usually send them back reasonably close to their own time. Though, this is the first time we’ve had a Jumper of such renown.” _

_ The word impossible came to mind and she knew Croaker heard what she was thinking, scrutinizing her from inside his Hood in a way that dared her to say it. She was almost positive that the moment she did say it, they would replace her memories with the Unspeakables and send her back out into the world without even the chance to take it back. Lily closed her eyes for a moment and forgot about the seemingly universal fact that Time Travel was impossible, and then nodded shortly. _

_ “So what do we do now?” She asked. “Is it possible his being here isn’t an accident given the current political climate?” _

_ A sharp exhale, almost a laugh, came from the darkened Hood as though she’d either amused or impressed him and then it nodded.  _

_ “I like where your head is at, Evans,” he told her, his voice light and unusually supportive. “But he wasn’t brought from this side. Seems he was experimenting with time. So far we’ve classed it as an accident on his side. That doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be disastrous should You-Know-Who find out. His identity doesn’t leave this room, understood?” _

_ Lily had long decided that ‘Understood?’ was his favorite word, not that she minded much. He put it at the end of everything important, everything going in a special box in her mind labelled ‘Important’. There was a lot that was important.  _

_ “Of course, sir.” _

_ Croaker clasped his hands behind his back and jerked his head towards the stranger- Slytherin, she supposed- and started towards him with Lily following. He stopped just in front of the man, and she stopped behind him.  _

_ “I am Unspeakable Croaker. My associates and I are tasked with sending you home. In the meantime, you will be provided with an Unplottable safe house for the stay and a chaperone to guide you through our modern world as needed. Do you have any questions at this point in time?” _

_ “Her.” _

_ Croaker tensed, “Excuse me?” _

_ Slytherin’s face was relaxed, almost smiling, as though he randomly time travelled with some regularity and Croaker had suggested a summer picnic. Lily imagined Croaker at a picnic and stifled the smile it tried to bring to her face. She watched them steadily, trying not to think about how funny it would be to see Croaker in his dark Hood, sitting cross legged on a red plaid blanket next to a basket. She scolded herself. This was a serious situation, and he was talking about  _ her _ , she needed to stay professional.  _

_ “If I am to be escorted through your world,” Slytherin was saying, presenting his sly smile as though it were a gift, “then I reserve the right to choose my keeper, and I. Choose. Her.” _

_ “That’s not going to happen,” Croaker told him firmly. “That’s not how this works. I decide who guides you, and you live with my choice in the short time before I send you back to your own time.” _

_ Lily’s mirth at her own thoughts faded away, replaced with annoyance. For obvious reasons, she and this Slytherin(she still wasn’t sure how convinced she was) had never met so what right did he have to pick her out of everyone else? If he thought he could manipulate her because of her youth, she would happily erase that train of thought from his head. And who did Croaker think he was, getting defensive in her stead without even a glance to see how she felt about things? _

_ “Then I will not move from this spot,” came Slytherin’s response. “And I challenge anyone to try making me. My terms have been set.” _

_ Neither of them moved or said anything else, staring still at the other while she glared at them both. Familiar indignation burned in her chest. They were going to stand there and negotiate for her like two cavemen, like she wasn’t two bloody feet away waiting for someone to remember their manners and ask  _ her _ - _

_ “Evans!”  _

_ She jumped, automatically correcting her posture. _

_ “Yes, sir?” _

_ He turned somewhat towards her, gesturing to her with an open hand. “Your thoughts?” _

_ Slytherin seemed to dissect her on the spot and she met his eyes defiantly, lifting her chin. “I’m muggle born. Is that going to be a problem for you?” _

_ One of the Unspeakables shifted behind her when she said that, but she was watching Slytherin. The open surprise on his face was satisfying to see, like a glowing, triumphant stone in her stomach. The levity that followed less so.  _

_ He sort of smiled at her.  _

_ “Am I to infer from your inflection that my personal opinions are well documented? Do I offend you?” _

_ “Is it any wonder? Had it only been up to you, I might never have had the opportunity to attend Hogwarts at all.” _

_ That Unspeakable shifted behind her again and she whirled around.  _

_ “Do you need a lavatory?!” _

_ When she turned back Slytherin was smiling openly, unconcerned and unapologetic. His dissection over, he pinned her to where she stood the way Petunia used to pin dead butterflies in glass cases on her wall. Lily felt the hair on her arms stand. “While I’m sure you’re extraordinary in your own right, Miss- Evans, was it?- I’m afraid my feelings on the matter are well earned and unyielding. You may, of course, refuse. Should you do so, significant time difference or not, I will walk out of that door and find my own way in your world.” _

_ She scoffed. “And history paints Gryffindor as the dramatic one.” _

_ Slytherin grinned and it transformed his face entirely, enough that it shocked her out of her antagonistic mood. His face was nice to look at, but it shone when he smiled. Like magic, and when he laughed he cast more of it.  _

_ “I should have known you were one of his. I can see the bold morality seeping out of every pore from over here. Do we have an agreement?” _

_ He held his hand out for her to take, making her realize only then that she’d somehow closed the distance during their exchange. She glanced down at his hand and back up to his face. He was smiling, more of a smirk, and his eyes seemed to be delivering his offer as a taunt- successfully provoking her pride. She glowered at him, and took his hand in a quick up, down handshake. _

_“Of course we do.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _*_ _  
_ _  
__The safe house was a lovely cottage in Godric’s Hollow and Lily wondered if there was some secret, random way of assigning them or if Salazar Slytherin had been placed here for the sole sake of irony. It was early morning and dense fog lay upon the dewy grass; warm with just enough of a chill to make her shiver and cross her arms in front of her. She loved mornings. She loved watching the world wake up, the birds singing just for her._

_ The air held promise of a beautiful day; warm and sunny and normal. The neighbors, all still sleeping in their beds or already off to work, had no idea the impossibilities which had taken place and were continuing to take place just yards away.  _

_ When they arrived, Chess went off on his own to check the ward stones at the property lines. Slytherin stood on the front stoop facing the street, his eyes closed and his face relaxed. He was taking deep breaths, feeling the air. Like he was trying to feel and breathe in the world as a whole. Lily watched him for a few minutes while Croaker went through the house to be sure it was indeed safe. He seemed sad, uncertain. _

_ He opened his eyes and looked at her, and a second later Croaker came out of the front door, striding towards her with intent. When she looked back to Slytherin, he was slipping into the cottage behind Croaker, who had slowed to a stroll as he approached her. They walked to the property line.  _

_ “It is inevitable,” he said, “that he should learn of the future; muggle technologies, and advancements in our own world. Knowing our destination is harmless, so long as the secret of how we got here is kept. Do you understand?” _

_ “Yes, sir.” _

_ She glanced over at the cottage, at the wide, sitting room window where Slytherin stood watching them, studying them with a penetrative gaze. He didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed of being caught, meeting her eyes and refusing to look away.  _

_ “Paraphrase.” _

_ “Knowing that cars will eventually exist is fine as long as he doesn’t go looking under the hood.” _

_ “Good.” _

_ Lily tore her eyes from their staring contest when Chess joined them once again. _

_ “The wards are secure, and we will be alerted should anyone try to tamper with them.” _

_ “Very good,” Croaker told him, his dark Hood shifting as he nodded. “Return to Camelot and I will be along.” _

_ Chess blinked out of sight and Lily waited for him to speak again, but he seemed to be having some trouble deciding what to say. _

_ “The world doesn’t actually know for certain much of anything about Salazar Slytherin,” he stated. “There are no biographies of him, no scholar who seems to know anything concrete, and that makes him dangerous. If he does anything, Evans, anything at all, you drop him. Don’t warn him, don’t hesitate, don’t keep it to yourself. Otherwise, be professional. Professional, but cautious.” _

_ She watched him go and stood motionless in the grass for several minutes after. Early morning had already, in the seemingly short time they’d been there, faded into mid morning and children were waking and making their way into their yards to play. A cluster of witches in shimmering robes cackled and chatted their way towards town. Lily watched them and crossed her arms tight against the sudden chill that ran down her spine, turning back towards the cottage once they were passed. _

_ The cottage had furnishings, she noted in her mind. She hadn’t thought much about it one way or the other, but found herself somewhat taken by surprise at the well worn bottle green loveseat facing the fireplace when she stepped in. Well loved, her mother would call it. There was a coffee table with a fading finish and various sized rings from an assortment of beverages, a floor lamp in the corner with a threadbare lampshade.  _

_ Slytherin was no longer standing at the window, but in the kitchen looking around in unbridled curiosity and excitement. It was a nice kitchen, average sized, with an odd mix of muggle and magical amenities. There were power points and a plug in toaster, but a charmed cool cabinet in the stead of an icebox. It was actually a little bit……. adorable. The wonder on his face that told her it had only just hit him, the phenomenon of being in the future and the first glimpse of what he could hope to see in it. Lily felt the hostility in her at who he was, though she knew admittedly little about him, seep away from her. _

_ She felt herself smile and she leaned against the door to watch him. _

_ “I’m Lily,” she said. “Lily Evans. You can call me Lily, if you want.” _

_ “Salazar,” he replied without looking at her. He turned around after a few moments in a sweeping fashion and nodded in acknowledgement before going back to his perusing. “I do believe we got off on the wrong hoof earlier.” _

_ He was examining the sink, running a finger over the tap and bending his body to the side so he could look up into the pipe. It became clear that was all he had to say. Lily cleared her throat. “You aren’t going to apologize?” _

_ “Why should I?” He muttered, his voice betraying how little of his mind was on the conversation at hand. He prodded at the drain. “You’re the one that was offended, and I forgive you.” _

_ Lily blinked twice at his back and jerked her head back, insulted and surprised more than anything at his boldness. She opened her mouth to speak before closing it and focusing consciously on the breath she was taking to calm down. She lost her temper too easily, and she couldn’t ruin her first real post by doing it here.  _

_ Slytherin, Salazar he had said, didn’t seem to notice, lost in the mystery of the sink.  _

_ He turned the tap on and water poured from it. He jolted away, startled, and then roared with joy- laughing and turning back to her with the biggest grin she’d ever seen on anyone’s face, tears of awe in his eyes. He shifted back around, blocking her view. She heard a pause in the water hitting the sink, and a hiss as he drew his hand back to him. The movement let her see the steam from the hot water. _

_ “Don’t burn yourself,” she told him too late, striding into the kitchen with him and turning the hot water off, turning the cold water on.  _

_ She grabbed his hand and pushed his sleeve back, placing the rapidly reddening skin in the stream of cold. He jerked at the temperature change and chuckled, disbelieving.  _

_ “Cold and hot, just like that. How does it do that?” _

_ Lily glanced up at him, his expectant, and actually quite charming, face. She shook her head and shrugged one shoulder. “I-I’m not sure.” _

_ He didn’t look the least bit disappointed in her lack of knowing, rather it seemed to intrigue him even more. Became more of a conundrum. She went back to his hand, pulling it out from the water and examining it.  _

_ “I don’t think it will blister,” she reported, turning it in the natural light coming in through the window to see it better. “But you should be careful. That’s my fault. I haven’t really had a chance to show you around or explain anything.” _

_“It is hardly your fault if there hasn’t been the chance,” he replied, very matter of fact, before taking his hand back so he could investigate the power point._ _  
_ _  
_ _*_ _  
_ _  
__It was impossible to dislike him from the beginning, but she kept trying- out of spite more than anything she would admit. But everytime she found herself frustrated over something, he would discover something else and she couldn’t help but be amused by his wonderment. Charmed by his delight in the world around him._

_ He was nothing at all like she might have imagined, had she thought to imagine anything. Certainly nothing like Voldemort and his ilk, nothing like who everyone tried to make him out to be.  _

_ His second interaction with water he tried blocking the spout with the flat of his thumb and it sprayed everything, not that he cared- too enraptured at the pressure and its properties. He asked her questions about everything, and she couldn’t make herself mind. It was almost as though seeing it all through his passion and fervor made her see it for the first time with him. He gave her new appreciation, new perspective and new eyes to see it all with.  _

_ Introducing him to the future became her new favorite thing, and his enthusiasm never waned.  _

_ “It’s called a radio,” she informed him, setting it down on the kitchen counter in the safe house with a grin. She plugged the cord in, patting his hands away from trying to fidget with it.  _

_ “What does it do?” He had that familiar expression of burning curiosity and impatience on his face that she’d quickly grown fond of.  _

_ The expression, not his face. Not that it was a  _ bad _ face. Actually she thought it was rather lovely. Not that she thought about his face. The way the corner of his mouth twitched when he wanted to smile but thought it would be improper.  _

_ Lily cleared her throat and looked away. “It, er, it does a lot, I suppose. My parents like to listen to the news, but most people I know prefer listening to music.” _

_ “ _ Your _ parents? The muggles?” _

_ She glared at him. “Yes. It’s a muggle invention, as is the toaster that you made your breakfast from this morning. Do you have a problem with that or can I continue?” _

_ “My apologies,” he said quietly. _

_ He watched her face as she adjusted the station before turning it on. It was a loud burst of music, startling them both. She chuckled to herself and turned it down.  _

_ “This is your music?” He asked, eyes wide at the radio as though it held life’s answers. _

_ “What do you think? Mum and Dad call it ruckus, but they prefer milder genres.” _

_ “It does sound a bit  _ cacophonous _ , I suppose. It is so different from anything I’ve ever heard that I feel like comparing them would be discourteous; disrespectful to them both. There is something- invigorating- about it.” _

_ She liked to watch his face while he described what new things made him feel, her chin resting comfortably in the heel of her hand. “Invigorating how?” _

_ He didn’t answer immediately, watching the radio and thinking hard enough to wrinkle that space between his brows, and Lily felt the odd urge to smooth it while finding it endearing in the same thought. _

_ “Life,” he declared finally in whispered contentment. “It sounds like life, and I find myself filled with joy at the notion of being alive.” _

_ She could have kissed him then, watching him listen to the radio and hearing him talk about it as though he were composing poetry. He spoke poetry, in rhythm with romantic notions in every sentence without the slightest hint of irony. _

_ “How is this possible?” He asked after a few more bars. _

_ “I don’t know,” she told him, like she did with a decent percentage of his questions. “I know that they record the songs live in studios and then play them on the radio later. And eight tracks, so you can play your favorite songs whenever you want.” _

_ “Is there nothing left in the world that cannot be done?” _

_ She smiled at him and another song began. “No, there isn’t. Isn’t it wonderful?” _

_ “I am not sure.” _

_ They sat in silence for the rest of that song and four more. She liked watching his face when the music changed; the thousand micro expressions that lit off before settling again. It was easy to tell when he enjoyed one song in particular. His mustache would twitch and the very corner of his mouth pulled back into a secret, satisfied smile.  _

_ He liked ballads. _

_ “Lily?” _

_ Despite her telling him he could, and despite her having been addressing him by his, he hadn’t yet called her by her first name. _

_ “Yes?” _

_ “Would you like to dance?” _

_ Lily felt her heart’s speed change in mid beat, erratic and nervous and happier than she’d ever felt. She’d been asked to dance before. Gideon Prewitt had asked her to Hogsmeade in her sixth year at Hogwarts and when it suddenly poured down on them on the way back to the castle, he held his hand out- very proper- and asked her to dance with him. It had been fun and silly and sweet, and a treasured memory that always brought a smile; but when Salazar asked her then in the kitchen, eyes gazing into hers from across the counter, it felt like an entirely different question, a different choice, than Gid had offered then. _

_ But her answer was the same. _

_ “I would love to dance,” she told him, meaning it more than she’d ever meant anything. _

_ He stepped around the marble top and gave her a half bow, that smile on his face that she adored, and she took his hand. He pulled her towards him and away from the kitchen, a hand on his shoulder and the other clasped in his. Like they did this everyday. _

_ “Breathe,” he whispered to her, his middle finger warm on the pulse in her wrist.  _

_ And they moved.  _

_ It wasn’t to the music, later she wouldn’t even remember the song that played. And they didn’t dance in any particular rhythm or way. They just moved together.  _

_ And that was enough. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ * _ _   
  
_

_ “How did your parents take the news that you have magic?” _

_ Summer had faded away, taking with it the warm afternoons that they would spend on long walks together in pleasant companionship. It was September now and Autumn blew in on the wake of his predecessor with golden leaves and chilled evenings. Salazar had been in her world for nine weeks and five days, but it often felt like much longer. They were in the sitting room, in the fading afternoon glow and the warmth of the softly crackling fire- their enthusiasm drowning out the sounds and time of day as they discussed anything and everything as it came to mind.  _

_ His question was unprecedented, unexpected, and she was startled by it so that her thoughts abandoned her for several seconds. _

_ Her mother’s eyes came to mind once it started working again, wide and disbelieving and waiting for someone to start laughing. She could remember so clearly how the house smelled when Professor McGonagall came with her letter. They had been baking. _

_ “Surprise,” she answered after a moment. “They, like most muggles, thought magic was just stories meant to entertain children.” _

_ She laughed. “It took forever for my dad to believe them.” _

_ “And when he did?” Sal regarded her warmly. The light from the hearth cast lively shadows on his face, making the blue of his eyes electric. _

_ Lily looked away at the burning log. “I don’t know. He was happy for me, excited. They both were. Why?” _

_ He reached across the distance, where they both sat facing one another on the loveseat, and touched her hand to calm her nerves, entwining her fingers with his. “I do not mean to make you so uncomfortable, Lily. I am hoping to excuse myself, and perhaps banish that hidden film of hurt and accusation when you look at me.” _

_ The light coming in through the window faded as she watched it until it was gone, but he was still touching her and looking at her with those eyes of his. She dreamed of those eyes, searing like his hands, scorching her skin. _

_ She didn’t respond to him then. She supposed that Gryffindor part of her that spoke without thought had forgotten how to speak at all. _

_ “I’m glad,” he continued after what seemed like an eternity. “I am very glad that your parents were so accepting, but in my experience- in my time- they are an exception. Often the parents would say you were possessed by devils and that the only way to cleanse your soul is to tie you to a post and burn you alive, and that is still a kinder fate than some receive.” _

_ “That’s disgusting,” she exhaled at last, her voice hoarse.  _

_ He turned her hand over and began tracing the lines of her palm in the fire’s brilliance; hypnotic and soothing. His voice came as if his mind was a million miles, a million years away. “Muggles know magic exists and they fear it. They envy it. And they hate it. Muggleborns bring their families into our small world, and the muggles bring with them their numbers and our eventual destruction. Tell me now that your world is different, Lily, and I will believe you, but I am prejudiced out of fear for the lives of students I am responsible for; and those lives are in more danger with every Muggleborn that walks through Hogwarts’ doors.” _

_ “I didn’t know,” she whispered. “I just, everyone thinks you find them- us- unworthy.” _

_ “I do not,” he said firmly, just below a shout. Then under his breath, “How could I ever think  _ you  _ unworthy of anything?” _

_ Lily finished what she’d intended to say, watching his face, “They all think it’s why you and the other Founders fell apart.” _

_ “And it might well be.” He told her, his voice quiet and sad as he sat away from her and let her hand go. “I won’t lie and tell you we always agree, or even that we agree on this matter, but whatever finally tears us apart has yet to come to pass. And who knows? Perhaps your history tells the story wrong.” _

_ It was love, that sparkling shadow in his eyes when he talked about them. They were legends, stories retold to every generation so reverently that they nearly came to life as they were spoken. But he made them people, people he loved, and watching him talk about them brought an equally inspiring emotion like a sunrise to her chest. She had to sneak a glance at her arm just to be sure she wasn’t glowing with it. _

_ “You must miss them,” she said. _

_ “Very much,” he replied thickly, covering it well with an everything’s-okay smile. “This is the longest in twenty years I’ve been apart from them. It’s strange, but you remind me of them sometimes.” _

_ “Is that why you insisted on me?” _

_ He laughed heartily at being called out, reaching up to play with a curl of his hair at the base of his neck like she'd seen him do so many times.  _

_ "That had nothing to do with it, I'm afraid," he admitted, his voice dropping to something like fondness. His eyes softened. "I insisted on you because you are young and inexperienced, so I was confident that I would win in a duel if you were to turn on me for any reason. You display every thought on your face as it comes to mind, so I would see the attack coming.” _

_ She frowned, unsure whether she should be offended or not. He didn’t give her long enough to decide, continuing on without her.  _

_ “Not that I expected to see an attack coming.” _

_ “You didn’t?” Lily perked up, wondering if he thought she couldn’t ‘possibly hurt anyone’. “Why not?” _

_ He smiled at her. “No, I did not. You, my dear, radiate goodness.” _

_ She remembered his words back at Camelot the day they met and she quoted them back to him. “Bold morality?” _

_ Sal tilted his head in acknowledgement and reached forward for a glass of the wine she’d brought, and she remembered it existed only as he did so. “Quite. Though, I suppose your face might have wagered in my thought process in the smallest amount.” _

_ “My face?”  _

_His eyes moved around her as though he were tracing the lines of her face and committing them to memory. “It’s very pleasant to look at.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _*_ _  
_ _  
__October arrived with leafless trees and cool gray skies, no different than September, but something between them had changed. Or maybe it had been there from the beginning. She hadn’t seen Croaker or any other Unspeakable but for a weekly report, each time telling them that things were fine- maybe in some secret hope that if there was no problem then there would be no rush and he’d stay a little longer. Her optimism convinced her that perhaps there_ was _no way to send him back and they could be free._

_ But he was always meant to leave, she supposed.  _

_ He had a world to mold. _

_ Sal’s face didn’t change, but Lily felt the floor shift beneath her feet. There was a swelling in her chest, that emotion that she never knew the name to, and dizziness set in. She loved him and he was leaving. She couldn’t breathe. That swelling was threatening to suffocate her as it reached her throat.  _

_ There was a silence that followed the report, back in the steeliness of Camelot, and she begged to the fates, to any god that came to mind, that no one would notice her. That no one would look.  _

You display every thought on your face as it comes to mind _ , she could hear Sal tell her.  _

_ “Tomorrow,” the Hooded figure told them. She didn’t recognize this Unspeakable, but she’d only met a fraction. “It’s already afternoon now.” _

_ Lily wondered if that comment would make more sense to her once she was Hooded, or if it would once she could hear over the roaring in her ears. Though she had no problem at all hearing him. _

_ “I see,” came his baritone voice, saving and stabbing her at once. How could he sound so normal? He clasped his hands behind his back and nodded respectfully to the room. “There are not words to express my gratitude for your diligence. Please excuse me and any offense, but I must step away to compose myself.” _

_ Lily didn’t trust her voice, wasn’t sure it would work at all, so she gave a jerked nod to Croaker and hurried after Sal. She loved him, she loved him, she loved him- and the notion of losing him tomorrow slapped her in the face with it and the rushed feeling that she needed to tell him. She caught up with him in the hallway, a closed door away from the bustle of the Ministry Atrium. He was as agitated as she’d ever seen him, leaning on the wall with one hand and clenching the other. His clothes, in the seconds he’d left before her, were rumpled. _

_ And the sight, with the same certainty of her own feelings, told her they were returned. _

_ In a second the torture on his face was gone. He stood up straight, smoothed his hair back, and he was his composed self once again.  _

_ She reached for him, but they were just far enough away from each other that she barely brushed his shoulder before he took another step towards the door and away from her.  _

_ “Sal?” _

_ “Forgive me, Miss Evans. I-I fear I am not myself.” His voice dropped until she almost couldn’t hear him add, “I fear I have lost myself.” _

_ “Don’t,” she commanded. “Don’t pull away from me. I don’t think I’d be able to stand it today too.” _

_ She could hear him breathe. She hadn’t realized how much she loved the motion of his shoulders when he breathed; hours together, watching them absently as he read aloud. Watching him toy with his curls as he did, pulling on them. He turned his head to look at her, but she still couldn’t see his face. _

_ “And what is it you would have me do?” _

_ Lily gestured wildly, desperately. “Talk to me! We-we can get around this, can’t we? So you could stay? Th-there’s so much we haven’t done. So much you haven’t seen! C-couldn’t we talk to them or something?” _

_ Her voice broke on that last syllable and he turned to her entirely. Whatever he saw on her face made him pull her towards him. He tilted her face up by her chin.  _

_ “Words are useless, Lily,” he whispered to her tenderly. “They’ve all been said before, and there’s nothing to be done. You  _ know _ I have to go back.” _

_ He stepped away from her and opened the door to the Atrium, and walked away. Lily gripped the doorframe tight, her mind supplying a memory of a different argument, a different man, and she shot out the way she had then. _

_ “So that’s it? You’re willing to just give up and walk away like a  _ coward _?” _

_Like then, Sal stopped and she held her breath. A moment passed, two, and then he continued on without a word._ _  
_ Raining. It was raining when she went home, and while hours had passed since she left the Ministry, she couldn’t quite place where she’d gone after. Everywhere, she supposed, thinking and shouting and now it was raining. Lily stood on her front lawn, which wasn’t much of a lawn, and let the rain soak her to the bone. 

Maybe it would make her sick.

He was leaving tomorrow. The thought made her angry, shivering in the cold at the thought that he would be gone and no one in the world would even know that he’d been here at all. No one would know what his smile looked like. No one would know how he lit up with enthusiasm at the smallest thing. No one would know he preferred an obscene amount of sugar in his tea. No one would know the appreciation he had for life.

She ought to break his door down and  _ make _ him talk to her, a thought came. She ought to tell him. 

Lily stirred, frowning and looking around at the wet. She peered up, squinting at the sky, and looked back down at her down. And then she turned away from it and walked back down the street.

She couldn’t spend the rest of her life not knowing, and if this was to be the last night before…..

It was raining harder here, and there were no lights on inside. She ran to the stoop and shook off under the cover, her anxiety growing now that she stood at the door. Croaker had told her that, for security reasons, they never used the same safe house twice. Staring frozen to the spot at the chipped red paint she was thankful. And sad. She touched it, more of the paint coming off on her fingers. 

She knocked.

The house was dark but for the fireplace when he opened it, eyes hard. He didn’t relax when he saw it was her alone.

“You shouldn’t be here, Lily. Go home.” He went to close the door but she brushed passed him inside, trembling.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

He sighed, still not looking at her with the door hanging open. “It was a suggestion.”

Lily crossed her arms, dripping on the carpet and glancing longingly at the fire. “I-I have things to say, and I’m not leaving until you listen to me.”

“And if I called upon your superiors?”

“Croaker might actually commend me for my dedication to what is, technically speaking, my job. So please.”

He let the door close and walked back to the loveseat. He picked up his book. “There’s nothing to talk about, Lily. Please.”

She ripped her soaked shawl from her shoulders and threw it hard at him, landing with a  _ slap!. _ “We have  _ everything _ to talk about!”

He looked over at her finally, visibly startled. 

She could feel herself start crying, shaking enough that her tears dripped with the rain from her hair. “Don’t stand there like you don’t know I love you! Like you don’t feel anything!”

“Of course I feel it!” He shouted, tossing the shawl to the floor angrily. “I don’t know if it’s occurred to you, but I’m dead, Lily! We could, right this moment, go visit my  _ grave _ ! I go home tomorrow and that’s all you’ll have of me. I will never see you again, but you want me to pour my heart out to you now anyway.”

Salazar sagged in exhaustion and emotion. “Of  _ course _ I feel it. I feel it constantly. I have your hand wrapped around my heart squeezing it with every breath I take. What do you want me to do with that?”

“Hold me,” she pleaded. “Hold me on the last night we have, like tomorrow isn’t what it is. Pretend with me.”

He started moving, or maybe she did, and they met in the middle. He pulled her to him and kissed her fiercely, clutching her as though she were the one that might vanish. She held him just as close, just as scared.  
  
*  
  
The hearth was only embers by the time she woke up, her head on his bare chest and her heart seizing at the rays of early morning bleeding through the curtains. Her stomach turned over and fear gripped her with a panic of not knowing the time, not knowing how much time they had left. It couldn’t be long. 

“Stop it,” he said, his voice soft and light. He stroked her cheek. “We still have a little time before we have to say goodbye.”

She turned her head and looked up at him, the fear giving way to love and tightening its grip at the same time. “I didn’t say anything.”

He pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm. “It’s in your eyes, my love, and I cannot bear it.”

Lily lay her head back on his chest and closed her eyes to the gentle beating of his heart. It almost made her smile. Then it made her cry. 

“How can I ignore it?” She asked, quivering. “In a few hours we  _ will _ have to say goodbye and I will never see you again.”

“If I could stay, Lily. If there was anything I could do, I would. If only for you.”

She sat up quickly and he changed position to see her better. “We could run, Sal. Leave Britain and never look back. I know we could. Find somewhere they would never find us.”

He smiled at her, soft and sad and adoring. “And what of your family? Of the war you’ve gone out of your way to avoid discussing? What of the future?”

“The only future I care about is whatever future let’s me keep  _ you _ . I don’t think I could ever love anyone else.”

Sal pulled himself up and drew her into a kiss. Just one gentle kiss before he let her lips go. He pressed his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes, trying to take the moment and lock it away as it was.

“I  _ have _ to go, love.”

“I know.”

Getting dressed was a somber affair. Sal made toast. They didn’t speak. Too soon it was time to go, and he took her by the hand before they stepped out of the house. She left her heart there, she told herself. There, in the house where they loved. There with memories of dancing and talking late into the night in front of the fire. 

They arrived at Camelot and separated, professional and like they weren’t thinking about it. Like she wasn’t scared and they were here for any reason other than the right one. 

“Unspeakable business,” the Hood from the day before told her dismissively and Sal tensed. 

Lily looked at him, then Croaker, but no words would come out. She took a step back before Sal seized her hand and their eyes met for the last time. Croaker placed a hand on her back and led her away, out of the room and into the corridor. The submarine door shut behind them with an authoritative sound and she jumped, turning back and waiting. 

She didn’t know what she was waiting for, she knew he wasn’t going to come back out, but she was somehow expecting him to. Waiting for his smile, not that he would smile where the Unspeakables could see. That would make him seem weaker somehow, he would probably say, and he had to let them think he was hard and unmovable. 

Croaker stayed with her.

It was minutes later, though she couldn’t say how many, that the door opened again and the Unspeakables began pouring out of the room, some talking with the other. Laughing. She waited for the last one, for the door to close again- final. And then she collapsed, caught only by Croaker’s reflexes. She buried her face in her robes and sobbed, not caring how loud she knew it was, and he let her. 

“I know, lass,” he told her. “I know.”  
  
*  
  
Grief made her sick, or maybe it was the rain, but the first week of December saw her sitting sick on the stoop of a convenience store, staring hard with hatred and hope at the muggle pregnancy test with its mocking plus sign. 

“Evans?”

Lily’s head jerked up and she cringed at the sight of James Potter, standing there in warm muggle attire and looking at her very concerned. She sniffed and wiped her face.

“Potter? What are you doing  _ here _ ?”

He smirked at her and the sight of it made her angry out of hand. “Believe it or not, I like frequenting Muggle London on occasion. Why are you crying?”

She scoffed and stuffed the test in her pocket. “Because life is unfair.”

His smirk melted into a genuine, somewhat pitying smile. He coughed and offered her his hand. “Want to go kick its ass?”

**Author's Note:**

> Song Prompt: All I Ask-Adele


End file.
